From the time I was a little girl growing up in Barbados, I was always told that there’s power in the “V”. Today, more than ever, I’m convinced of this. Not that I didn’t buy into it as a child. After all, being raised in a devout Christian family, church was a significant aspect of my life. It was there, perhaps more than any other place, that the message was instilled in me that my “V” was a very sacred thing. It was preached that my “V” was to be cherished, well-cared for, guarded against any “slackness”, that it had a special purpose, that God Himself had ordained how and when it should be used.
My “V” was intended to create something beautiful, to bring forth life, and if I did a great job with the product of my “V”- this gift – my legacy will be secured long after I’m gone. I was cautioned that not any and everyone was worthy of my “V”. I had to save it for the right time, right setting, right recipient, and when the stars aligned for all these factors, giving of my “V” would be a euphoric moment, a freedom expressed like never before, I’d reach low and high octaves and might even be moved to tears with the emotions taking hold of me.